


Only Fools Rush In [WEREWOLF OC/READER]

by AnnabellaLee



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Absinthe, Accidental Knotting, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Biting, Blood Drinking, Cigars, Cocaine, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Drama & Romance, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Groping, Light Dom/sub, Older Man/Younger Woman, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Kissing, Scratching, Sirens, Sugar Daddy, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnabellaLee/pseuds/AnnabellaLee
Summary: Wise men say, "only fools rush in"... Well I guess you're just the biggest fool then, huh?(Readers dialogue is slightly limited, all of the intense or questionable stuff in the tags have him on the receiving end or are really really lowkey, except for the knotting. Please dont actually hook up drunk with some random dude at a bar in a town you've never been to, you'll probably die, this is just fiction and porn okay.)





	Only Fools Rush In [WEREWOLF OC/READER]

**Author's Note:**

> So all the sugar daddy stuff isn't that bad, it's low key at leat for now, blood drinking and cocaine use are just very very vaguely hinted at and are pretty easy to miss, and yes you're both kinda drunk but it's consensual and that is clarified numerous times in dialogue.  
> Theres also some long dialogue at the beginning that you can skip cause it's not essential to the "plot" if you can even call it that, that's really only there because I'm thinking about expanding this eventually.

Today is a new day. Or well, night. Afternoon is probably the best word for this. The sun is setting, birds have quieted down completely, the only clear sound is from your radio, muffled by the wind as you speed down the highway. Its beautiful. A new start is all you wanted and this day seemed to be in your favor. The sky is clear aside from a few twinkling stars and the beautiful silver moon, constantly shining ahead of you as you near your destination. You've been driving uphill for a good few hours now, not a sign of life around. If it wasn't for the sparse signs every 10ish miles you would think you're going the wrong way.  
After hours of driving you finally see the city's skyline. Theres hundreds of skyscrapers littered in bright neon lights and signs, one sticks out from the rest, like a giant black mirror that soars well above the clouds. You can't see the top. The highway that splits right through the city becomes lined with fence and when you cross into the city limits the land fades to water, then to hard concrete. An entire river circles around and through the city like a moat, but the water is surprisingly clear and blue.  
Despite the size of the city, almost nobody is outside. You can faintly see a few people lounging on apartment building balconies, and in restaurants. There isn't an architecture or culture pattern from what you can tell, there's family run cafes next to high end multimillion dollar restaurants and mansions next to apartment buildings. The little architecture you CAN recognize consists primarily of hyper-futuristic geometric structures and medieval era patterns etched in old wood that you can hardly make out.  
Its beautiful really. You park the rental car in a massive parking garage, on one of the lower floors. There are several hotels nearby that you plan on looking at soon enough. First and foremost, you want a drink. Then hopefully some assistance navigating the maze-like layout of the city. Aside from the one highway you drove in on there isn't any discernible pattern to the alleys and streets, everything just seems like it's been thrown together last minute.  
You walk across the street from the parking garage to a row of restaurants and bars. None of them particularly catch your eye so you continue walking until you come across a narrow alleyway that's barely wide enough for 2 people to stand side by side in. It goes on for at least a block before turning to the left, but halfway between you and its exit you can see a fluorescent green sign in the shape of a mermaid. It looks like the signs over every bar you've passed by so far so you start down the alley.  
The door is made of old wood, cracked in some places, and you can faintly hear soft music from the other side. A worn out plaque under the window that's been painted out says something you can't quite make out, but it looks like a sign. "The /////e"  
That was enough for you to nudge the door open, just enough to see inside. From the little crack all you can see is a few bar stools and tables. Clearly it was a bar so you opened the door all the way and walked in.  
The ceiling is high and the room is massive, at least the size of a house and at the back end there's a stage lined with lights. To your right is the bar and on your left are rows and rows of tables with booths up against the wall. There are old paintings littering the walls depicting various scenes, most of which have faded. A woman is on stage, seemingly setting up a microphone and waiting patiently for the music to start. But she's staring right at you like you have two heads. You take a glance around and everyone else is doing the same. A lone man at a booth in the far corner ignores the scene entirely, keeping his head down.  
The door slams shut behind you and half of the room flinches. Clearly you have already made a mark, it would probably be worse to just leave.  
You walk up to the bar, the patrons now turn away as the woman begins to sing. The bartender looks up through white lashes and a good amount of guyliner. Hes sporting a desaturated red vest with gold pinstripes and a tie of the same color, like the bar itself. His shirt collar is high but you can still see how thin he is. He consistently looks down his nose at you and you can't tell if it's he's suspicious or if it's only his height. That thought is wiped when he smiles lightly and asks, “Welcome. Is there anything I can get you ma'am?”  
You smile back hesitantly, “Well, I'm new here, I suppose I was really just looking for some sort of… Advice? Or any heads up on what to expect, I only just arrived about an hour ago so I'm still trying to figure things out.” He takes a long inhale, and while he does you glance down at his nametag. It reads “Michael” in blood red shimmering calligraphy on a dull white background.  
Michael doesn't exhale but furrows his brow and hesitates. After a good minute he replies. “You're human, correct?” You nod. Vampires and witches were heard of, but not common. There were others like werewolves but most stayed underground and they were especially good at avoiding suspicion because of it. He continued. “This town isn't on the radar for a good reason. It's a sort of safe haven for supernatural creatures but we all have to be registered beforehand. Humans don't and intentionally harming a human resident results execution or exile depending on the degree. It's not talked about in mainstream media often, but we can smell everyone. That's why everyone turned around when you came in, this is a speakeasy, we usually just have regulars and your blood smells very strong. Everyone in here is well known, I would talk to some people in here if you're looking for a job or a place to stay, but we have openings here if you have any experience.” That was a lot to take in. The fact that this was a town of monsters was unsettling, but Michael's welcome and the laws in place put that worry at ease. You didn't have any experience bartending or mixing drinks though.  
“I have experience working and waitressing but-”  
“That's fine, you can start in a week or whenever you've settled in. Do you have a place to stay?”  
“No, I just planned on getting a room at a hotel-”  
“Don't. They're run by humans with the intention of luring people who pass through. You don't have a friend to stay with or anything?” He was weirdly open but he was a bartender, it made sense that he was social.  
“I'm afraid not. My friends mentioned this place a few times and told me how open-minded it was and how pretty the city looks at night, that makes a little more sense now. I'm a bit of a night owl and they showed me some pictures, it seemed nice enough for a fresh start.” It was true. The main reason you moved here was for the remoteness and aesthetic. Michael pauses, thinking it over.  
“That's all very true, this is a very open place. Very close knit, everyone knows everyone and word travels fast. There's residents that live out in the country near the forest line and highway that are sort of shady, but they keep to themselves. If you really don't have anywhere to stay you can rent one of the rooms upstairs, they're kept free for regulars who can't walk home by the end of the night. It's slow tonight so it's no trouble.” As he spoke, your focus drifted from the lady singing wonderfully on stage, to the man who's been sitting in a dimly lit booth since you walked in. There's a massive glass and metal container in the center of the table that has a long stem and 4 spouts. 3 cups are set under 3 of the spouts, thin metal spoons resting across the rim of each one. The container is filled to the brim with a mixture of ice and green liquid. A little silver sugarbowl is set at the table but it hasn't been touched. The man sitting there is nearly drifting off, glancing around the room pointlessly in boredom before he goes back to the book he's reading. His own glass sits near him, empty with green residue left at the bottom. Maybe sometime you'd talk to him, you hope.  
Michael had stopped talking and when you turned around he was looking at the man too. His eyes drifted back to you. “Go bother to him. He's well known here, he essentially runs the city. If anyone can find you a place to stay, it'll be him. I know he looks intimidating but I promise he's really a huge pushover.” That sounded nice but… You weren't the best with new people and you didn't want to intrude.  
“You won't. He's reading the book for the 3rd time and it's finally boring him to death. There couldn't be a better time to talk to him.”  
“Alright, I guess I'll… Wait hold on I didn't say that out loud, how did you-” He smiled again, this time showing his teeth to reveal a set of long pointed upper canines. “Oh… Can all vampires do that?” He kept smiling.  
“No, only purebloods can, almost every vampire you'll meet was bitten, not born that way. Even then we can't directly read minds unless we make prolonged eye contact or have a deep connection already.” You didn't know that was possible, to be born a vampire. “A lot of us work that way, there's more than one species of every creature here. Most have been infected with a virus or initiated, some have died but you probably won't meet anyone like that for awhile.” Talking to him put you at ease. Thank god you walked into this bar. Michael grins again. “That's what I'm here for. Go talk to him. Ask what he's drinking to start the conversation, he loves Absinthe more than… More than anything.” He trails off and looks to the side, returning to the tumbler he was cleaning. “And if you need help just look over here. Telepathy works both ways.” You smile and hop off the bar stool, quietly making your way across the room to the man.  
He doesn't look up until you began to sit down and when he does he closes the hardcover book, setting it on the seat next to him. Now that you're closer you can see an ashtray with several cigar butts at arms reach and a thin business card holder near the glass of absinthe, along with an American Express Platinum card that has microscopic amounts of white on the edges. “Oh… Hello!” He snaps the card holder shut the second he makes eye contact and slips it into his suit. They're pretty, dark blue irises with a red tint around the pupils that contrast his dark hair and silvering temples that he's lazily gelled back. He talks sweetly with an accent that you can't place and a 5 o'clock shadow that looks more like a 7. The black-blue suit he wears looks custom tailored, so does the red tie he wears with it. When he moves you can see a slight reflection off his chest and your eyes are drawn to the 3 small pins on his lapel that depict moon phases in opal and onyx. His cufflinks look the same as the sign outside the bar, a little crescent moon that matches his pins.  
“Is there anything I can do for you miss?” You'd been staring for a long time.  
“Oh, sorry! I was wondering if I could sit and drink with you, I'm new to the city and Michael said you might be able to help?” His pupils dilated for a quick second before returning to normal. Weird.  
“Of course. What's your name, if you don't mind my asking?” He purrs and his voice is strong and oddly clear, his accent accentuating that.  
“[Y/N]” You reply.  
“I'm Scott, Scott Verdenzia. It's a pleasure to meet you.” He flashes his teeth and you can see his canines are sharp and so are the incisors next to them. He gestures vaguely to the fountain in front of him with a gloved hand and asks, “Absinthe?” You've heard of it, but never tried it.  
“Sure, but I've never had it before.” Scott hums, as if to ignore your comment. He doesn't mean to put you off but it comes out aggressively.  
“Would you like me to pour you some? It tastes better diluted but it's great with sugar.” Sugar?  
“Yes please. Why do you use sugar?” He opens the sugar bowl on the table and uses a pair of tongs to set a cube on the spoon laid across the glass in front of you. You look closely and there's holes in it forming a little skull.  
“Dilutes it further and makes it go down easier. Absinthe doesn't have the best taste to start with.” Now he turns a small knob on the spout above your glass and drops of the alcoholic mixture start to drip onto the sugar, slowly dissolving it. “Now, about advice… I assume Michael told you about the supernatural creatures here and how the hotels aren't exactly safe, yes?” You nod. “Good. That's all you really need to know. However, I would look into buying a firearm, some people here don't like newcomers and tend to get aggressive. Average bullets won't do it either, silver bullets will injure nearly every being around.” That suggestion put you on edge. Maybe you should just move again.  
“Its that dangerous?”  
“No, not usually. They just like to take advantage of your naivety, after a few months you'll be as well known as everyone else.” He replies and pulls a cigar from his jacket and puts it in his mouth, lighting it with a gold Zippo. Smoke fills the booth and adds to the haze hanging over the room. God he looked good. That was an understatement by far.  
“You know I've never tried cigars either.”  
“Cigarettes?” He gave you a questioning look.  
“On and off.” It was true. You did smoke sometimes, usually when you were stressed.  
“Wanna try?” He grins with the cigar stuck between his teeth.  
“Sure.” He hands it to you and watches as you take a few puffs and cough a little.  
“Careful. They're not for everyone so don't push yourself.” You hand it back and he continues to smoke. When you look back to the glass of absinthe it's almost half full and the sugar cube has significantly shrunk. Scott reaches and turns the tap off.  
“Don't drink it all at once, its strong stuff.” He hums and nudges the glass towards you. You've been watching him closely and he seems genuine enough to not poison your drink, and it was just filled up from the fountain he's clearly been drinking from. You gingerly set the spoon and sugar on the table and take a sip of the drink. It tastes almost like black licorice but sweeter thanks to the sugar.  
“That's… An odd flavor. “ Scott laughs a little and it sounds different from his speaking voice, deeper, but its sweet.  
“It is, no? It's an acquired taste, you don't have to finish it.” You're not backing down from that. You take a bigger swig and almost hack.  
“Careful!” You nod and hold up a finger to let him know you need a second. God a glass of Coke and rum would be nice right now. On queue, Michael sets a glass of brown on the table for you. “Thank you sweetheart.” The vampire smiles in return and walks back behind the bar, continuing to serve patrons. You turn to Scott.  
“What was that about?” He looks away towards the bar for a moment.  
“We're long time friends. He's helped me through a lot of things and in return I give him all I can. He just usually refuses.” He spoke fondly, you could tell they had a closer bond than he let on. Maybe you'd ask later. For now, you were wondering what kind of creature he was. You had your money on a vampire or a maybe a demon if his teeth were anything to go by.  
“So… Everyone here is a monster, right?”  
“Well, yes, mostly. There are humans but they just run small businesses or just live here for family.” Scott pours himself another glass of absinthe, but fills it up without sugar, and to the brim. He downs the glass in one go without batting an eye. Well, that was an exaggeration, he did close his eyes when he tipped the glass back, but he didn't react to the taste the way you did.  
“What are you then?” As he sets his glass down he sighs.  
“I'm a werewolf, at least that's what I tend to be classified as. Specifically I'm a Lycan, so I was never bitten and I'm not forced to change on full moons.” Oh! That went for werewolves too? “There are other things but I'd rather not bore you, it gets repetitive.” Repetitive my ass.  
“Well I'm human, so to me all of that's pretty interesting. What else differs you from a normal werewolf?” You liked to hear him talk. He smiles a little.  
“Most werewolves have a set form when they turn, and it's incredibly painful. It can range from an average dog to what just looks like bad makeup on a normal human. I don't, I can pick and choose what form I take and when I take it. My transformation process is different too, most werewolves bones expand or shrink and their hair grows accordingly. Mine do too but I control every aspect of it. I'm also quite a bit older and stronger than other werewolves and lycans, as far as I know I'm the oldest, straight from the 18th century-” You interrupt him in surprise.  
“Wait, that means you have to be at least 300!” Scott cringes.  
“Yes. About 345ish from what I vaguely remember. My father was the Beast of Gevaudan, killed a lot of people. I was a wolf too, for a long time, up until the late 1790s. After he died I met another supernatural being, and I ended up with her for God knows how long. It had been at least a few years and the town nearby heard about us and formed a mob. I'm not sure what happened to her, but I started realizing I could turn human and so I left to America. While I was there I worked on a farm for a small family. I picked up English, before I only knew bits and pieces of French. I worked on the farm for a few generations, until they had forgotten that I wasn't even family. Eventually they all died, mostly from various sickness. Since there was no one else, I inherited the farm and the stocks. I sold the land for more than it was worth and moved here. I bought the entire area with the money I had, which was quite a lot. The rest is a bit fuzzy for me.”  
“What was she?”  
“Hm?”  
“The lady, was she another werewolf or…?” He looked to the side, slightly put out.  
“No. She was a 2-tailed siren. She spoke French and English sparsely, since I couldn't speak either at that point. She mostly just sung. When the mob came she couldn't leave the pond she had stayed in and as far as I know she died.” As he speaks he fills up the cup again and downs it like water.  
“Oh… I'm so sorry.” Scott sighed, then turned to you and gave a weak grin.  
“Don't be. It was my fault in the first place and it's been centuries. I found love again after she passed and I'll continue to until I die. Warm body or not.” He raises the glass as if toasting. By now you had finished your glass and Scott took notice. He looks towards the bar and after a few minutes Michael comes to the table again. “Do you want another round, or have you had enough?” You took that as a challenge. You turn to Michael and he shrugs.  
“If you really want to…” He leaves and returns with a tray of shots. Scott looks at you like you're insane.  
“You're drinking all of that yourself?”  
“Well, not by myself, I hoped.” You hum, giving him a glare. He picks up on your tone.  
“If you think you can out drink me, you can try.”  
“Oh I will, just you wait.”  
…..  
An hour later you're both wasted, you quite a bit more so than him. Scott did in fact out drink you, several times. By now it's well past midnight and most of the other patrons in the bar had left, leaving you and Scott drunkenly telling stories at the table. You're leaning up against him in the booth for support and he's trying to let you without wrapping his arm around your waist.  
“It's getting late. We should probably be heading home.” Oh right… You didn't have anywhere to stay, at least that's what your drunken mind thought, not recalling Michael's offer.  
“About that… I don't exactly have anywhere to stay, I had planned on staying in a hotel but, yanno… “ He turns to you and thinks over the consequences silently.  
“I suppose you could stay at my apartment if you want to. It's just a bit of a drive, but I'd love to have you.” That sounded nice. Scott sounded nice. Now you started to think that maybe, just maybe you could get him to sleep with you. That was taking it a little far a little too quick, but in this situation when you were both drunk, you might have a chance. Yes, he could overpower you easily but God he was so sweet and tried to be so gentle with you that it was hard to hold yourself back.  
“I'd like that.” You leaned into him a little more until you were practically laying on him, gripping his bicep through his suit. He has to hold onto your waist to support you and gives you a questioning look, raising an eyebrow.  
“Are you sure?”  
He was pathetic, in an endearing way. An overwhelming presence that so desperately tried to hold himself back and let you take lead. You squeeze his arm feebly and rest your head on his shoulder. You pull your hand off of his and grab the hand he has on your waist to rest on your thigh . “I've never been more sure.” Scott rubs your thigh with his thumb absentmindedly.  
“Alright. Come on, we'll take my car.” He gets up first and takes his briefcase under the table in one hand, then offers the other to you. You take his hand and stand. Now that you're standing next to him you can process the size difference as your head is level with his chest. He opens the door for you and nods to Michael as he lets it shut behind him. In the alleyway the pretty green mermaid sign above the door glows steadily, there's no longer anyone on the streets.  
Scott puts his hand on your lower back, leading you down the street. After a few blocks he stops in front of a convenience store. “Sorry about this. I know I can't really get you pregnant but I'd rather not take that chance. I'll be right out.” He leaves you to process his words. Oh this is actually happening. You're actually going to fuck him.  
You dwell on this for a few minutes while you wait for him. What's taking so long, it shouldn't have taken more than 5 minutes.  
A gunshot rings out from the convenience store and you turn to see a man wearing black grab you from the doorway and pull you inside. Scott is standing behind him with the cashier cowering behind the counter. The man throws you to the ground and as he turns to face Scott he gets grabbed by the collar and thrown back through the glass door. Scott walks back up to the man and pulls him back up by the collar. The man kicks him and Scott backhands him hard enough to knock one of his teeth across the room. “You're lucky I didn't do worse.” He turns the robber to face you and hold him by the throat. “Now say sorry to the pretty lady.”  
“Fuck you!” He tries to spit at him and fails. Scott reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handgun with a long silver silencer. He puts it against the man's temple and takes the safety off, cocking it.  
“Now, you can either say sorry, or your brains can stain the floor.” Of course, that was probably impossible because it was tiled, but you'd let him do his thing.  
“....Sorry.” Scott drops the man and he crumples to the floor. He walks back to the register and hands the cashier a 50 dollar bill and pockets the small box on the counter. He turns to you.  
“Come on, let's get out of here.” You take his hand and exit the store, careful to avoid the larger shards of glass peppering the concrete. He leads you around the street corner and there's an older 1980s Cadillac style limousine waiting at the curb. “Here's our ride.” Scott opens the door for you and the car is massive inside. There's only one seat for the two of you, a bottle of green liquid that you assume is probably absinthe sits in an ice bucket under the partition window and ashtrays are on each side of the car. You scoot to the left to make room for him.  
“Where are we going tonight Scott? Just your apartment or…?” The driver speaks with a hiss and through the window you can see bright ginger hair cut in a messy bob. He turns and his bangs cover his eyes completely.  
“Yes, that'll be all, F.” The driver hums a response and peels out. Scott shuts the partition window.  
He wraps an arm around you again, resting his hand on your thigh like he did earlier. You smirk and lean into him, resting your head back in the crook of his neck. He smells like cigars and cinnamon. “Should we continue where we left off?” You nod in response.  
Scott hoists your legs into his lap first and kisses your neck. You moan and wrap your arms around his neck, turning enough to kiss him on the lips. He presses back excitedly and runs his tongue along your lips to ask for access. You let him and moves his hand on your thigh up to your cheek and deepens the kiss, nearly shoving his tongue down your throat. You pull away after a good minute of making out and he lets his hand drift down to grope your breast, then slips his hand between your legs. He pulls you all the way onto his lap and spreads his legs, making you spread yours with him. Scott pulls your dress up and rubs you through your panties until you're begging him to stop teasing. The older man breaks away for a brief moment to pull his glove off with his teeth.  
“Shhhhhh… Let me take care of you sweetheart.” He sucks on your neck and shoves a hand into your panties, the other around your torso to keep you steady. A finger runs along your labia, feeling you up even more. “You're so wet, is this all for me?” Scott purrs, his breath hot on your skin.  
“Yes, just for you…Its all for you, Daddy.” He pushes a finger against your slit, testing you. His hard-on presses against your backside, twitching dully when you call him that. Scott leans into your neck, voice dropping an octave, words hot and laced with a slight drawl.  
“Say it again. Call me Daddy.” He cups your mound, rubbing the slick around lewdly. You whimper.  
“Oh please, Daddy.” He pushes a finger into you, pumping gently. You yelp and grab his arm, leaning back into the crook of his neck deeper to watch his expression. His eyes are half lidded and intently focused on your reaction. He pumps faster and slips another finger in, now using his middle and ring fingers with the intent to make you moan louder. You comply. Scott fingers you like this, at a slow and excruciating speed. When you buck up against his hand he slams them back into you, changing his pace to a deep and brutal one. His fingers curl up, massaging that sensitive spot in you with a repetitive come hither motion. “Yes! Right there!” He grins wolfishly against your soft skin.  
“You wanna come for Daddy?” A long wet tongue runs up your jugular. You reply in a squeak that eggs him on.  
“Yes!”  
“Then let go, honey. Come for me.”  
You come hard all over his hand, with a groan that was surely heard by the driver and anyone with their windows down. Lips suck on your neck leaving fat love bites and teeth graze back over the tender marks as you ride it out. Your orgasm is much wetter and longer than you expected and liquid coats Scott's entire hand and likely the car seats as well. He pulls out, eliciting another moan. “Good girl." He praises you. "You squirted everywhere. You've ever done that before?” You shake your head and let out a shaky breath.  
“No…” He raises his hand to his face and licks your juices off, shoving the two fingers he used to fuck you in his mouth. His eyes flutter shut for a second with a muffled groan and you lean back into his chest. His fingers pull back out with a dull pop and he licks the rest of your slick off his palm.  
“You taste like heaven. I can't wait to make you come like that again.”  
The limousine stops and Scott hoists you off his lap and pulls your dress back down. He pats your thigh in a sweet manner contradicting his previous domineering actions. “Come on sweetheart, we can finish this inside.”  
Scott exits the limousine and you follow, struggling to keep your balance. He takes your hand and leads you around the sky-scraping apartment building to the back. The wolf produces a key and opens a door that's well camouflaged to blend in with the brick wall.  
A massive stairwell greets you, lights above buzzing. There's a service elevator to your left, a little keypad where the button to call the elevator would be. Scott walks to the door with you on his arm, punching in a code. The doors slide open immediately to reveal an interior that definitely didn't remind you of a service elevator. The carpet is red, the handles rose gold, with spotless mirrors along the top half of the walls. On your way in he presses the penthouse button at the top of a large row. Now that you've had the chance to sober up just a little more you pick up on exactly just how rich this man was. You felt guilty, but he was doing this on his own. You never told him to do this, you never really even asked anything of him. And yet he was willing to do all of this to please you, just a random girl who happened to meet him at a bar. It might have just been wishful thinking, but you really liked him.  
And he seemed to really like you back. You connected with him like you had known each other for years but maybe it was still just wishful thinking. Scott hoists you up onto the railing and spreads your legs to make room for himself. He presses his erection up against your panties, grinding into you slow and hard. Your arms move to wrap around his neck and you pull him into a kiss. The older man returns it with enthusiasm.  
You're both making out the entire way up, not parting to speak once. When the elevator dings and the doors slide open he begins to carry you in his arms, bridal style. You notice there's no other doors on this floor. With you in his arms he pulls out a key and unlocks the door.  
Scott's apartment is big and more than luxurious. Its dimly lit by yellow tinted lights, and all of the furniture is all dark greens, blues, and black. The carpet is a lovely red, and the wallpaper matches. From where you are you have a view of the chess board tiled kitchen, countertops all black and white marble. On your other side a window stretches across the wall, looking over just above the clouds, some skyscrapers and lights from the city below peeking through. He walks through the room and up a staircase to a second level. Another window greets you in a smaller lounge, on the other side of the room the door to the bedroom. He turns to push it open with his back and lays you down on the California king sized bed, covered in a soft black and red duvet. The bed has a mahogany headboard with posts that hold up sheer black curtains. Scott gets on his knees in front of you and pushes your dress up. You stop him from going further, which apparently sets off sirens in his head. “What's wrong? Do you want to stop, please if you don't want to continue I can just sleep on the couch or I can call a cab-” You giggle and rub his shoulder.  
“No silly, I just want you to take your jacket off first. You're getting a nice view of me so I want something to look at.” His attitude returns after letting out a sigh.  
“Of course. First let me get these off, they look uncomfortable.” Scott leans down, taking your left heel in his hand. He kisses the arch of your foot and for a second you're mildly worried he might have a foot fetish. Those thoughts are dismissed when he pulls it off, setting it aside carefully, and pulls off your right heel too. Back on his haunches, knees on the ground he unbuttons his jacket. He tosses it to the corner of the room, followed by him hastily whipping his tie off to throw it with his jacket. Underneath he's wearing a white dress shirt and dark red suspenders that he pulls off his shoulders to hang around his hips. You grab him by the collar.  
“I wanna do this part.” You rip the front of his shirt and the buttons pop off in a row. His chest is broad and his torso is covered with hair that's surprisingly neat as it'd been trimmed. He has a clear happy trail down to his belt and a thick “X” shaped scar spreads over his his left pectoral. Scott is well toned and muscular, but not quite to the extent where you'd think he took it too seriously. As a werewolf he probably didn't need the additional exercise, judging from the definition he already had at rest.  
“God you're perfect.” He groans. Scott rips your panties off, wasting no time shoving his face between your legs. You yelp and your hands find their way into his messy hair to pull him closer. He skips the teasing as you're still wet and sensitive from what happened in the limo and gives a long, deliberate lick. When you buck up into him he takes the hint and his tongue finds your slit without fault. Scott's tongue is huge and he slides it in deeper than you had anticipated. No doubt from his inhuman status. After a minute he raises his hand to finger you at the same time, keeping his mouth firmly on your clit. When you're stretched enough he adds a third and takes it slow. Once he does you push back into his touch and come almost immediately. Even afterwards he's still pumping slowly.  
When you pull away from Scott he lets you and looks up, still on his knees. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just don't want it to hurt.” You scoot back on the bed until you touch the pillows. He takes your signal as a go ahead and stands up to get on the bed, on all fours. During this short moment of space between you you finally get a clear chance to reflect on your situation properly.  
You're drunk, in an unfamiliar town, in bed with an unfamiliar man. A very attractive older man whose primary goal seems to be something along the lines of having a pretty young toy to spoil and squeeze. From your short time with him he seemed to get off on doting on you more than he got off on your own advances. He enjoyed being able to please you far more than you had originally thought upon meeting him. Scott was willing before but now seemed hopelessly devoted to making your night feel like a steamy fever dream. It wasn't the smartest decision you've made but the point of your move was a new start. This felt like just that, like the start of a new relationship and you were both fooling around like lovesick teenagers. What was so horrible about chasing that high?  
A large hand comes to rest next to your head, interrupting your train of thought. It pulls you back to the predicament at hand. Scott is towering over you, staring down, shirt open yet still partially tucked into his slacks. Which you now notice are a great deal tighter than they were in the limousine. They're still buttoned and like this you can clearly see the thick ridge of his cock stretching the fabric taught. He's clearly more well endowed than he was letting on. This whole time he focused on your own pleasure and didn't pause for himself, even when he humped against you in the elevator he was regulating his actions. You had already come twice tonight in the span of only 20 minutes and he had yet to even rut against you properly. You were intent on paying him back in length.  
When you raise a knee to run your shin against his hard on he gives a strangled groan. Now it's your turn to encourage him.  
"It's alright. You can be a little rougher you know, I'm not a teenager. Why don't you feel me up some more? Relieve a little stress, you've done so much for me already." Scott stares down at you, face red and breath uneven.  
"Are you sure?" He asks worriedly. You rest a hand on his cheek and he leans into your touch.  
"Yes, I'm sure Daddy." Calling him that earlier seemed to rile him up. It works wonderfully. He's on you in a second, nose in your chest, free hand fumbling to unbutton his trousers. He doesn't leave an inch of your chest untouched, kissing incessantly at your breasts and taking a languid whiff of your scent every time he happens to part. You're picking up on his affinity for smell, which has you fairly confused for a moment before recalling his status as a lycan. The wolf part of him must have got off on the scent aspect of this situation. Probably to do with the smell of an omega in heat or something vaguely along those lines.  
Scott pulls away from you to sit up, pulling his slacks down in one motion around his thighs. He's not wearing anything under them which explained why you could see the outline of his erection before, as such his cock slips out with force to stand at attention. The carpet certainly matches the drapes, dark and trimmed lazily with a few stray grey strands. His cock is uncut, larger and heavier than you anticipated, much longer than anything you've taken before and a great deal thicker than anything you've ever seen. You understood why he had worked you up so much beforehand. Scott pumps himself slowly, fingertips just barely touching as he smears precome over his length. His other hand comes down to your hip, pulling you up and towards him.  
"You're still sure? We can stop now if you're uncomfortable." You giggle at his concern and he looks genuinely concerned.  
"I'm sure. Just be careful, you're bigger than I thought you'd be." He nods.  
"Of course. But please tell me if you want to stop, I don't want to hurt you." With that he lifts your thighs up to wrap around his hips loosely, carefully lining himself up with your folds. He pushes in slowly, and watches for any sign of discomfort. You spread your legs more to give him room. When Scott feels you press back into him ever so slightly he slides into you, switching his hold to your hips. You let out a little sigh as he thrusts all the way in, until you can feel his pubic bone against yours. The stretch burns ever so slightly, but he fills you up perfectly. Scott waits for a sign from you to continue. He's not stupid, he knows the sudden intrusion and harsh stretch isn't exactly the most pleasant feeling. Not at first at least. After a few minutes of him caressing your hips with his thumbs, waiting patiently, you roll your hips against him. Scott starts at an excruciatingly gradual speed, pulling almost all the way out and pressing back in so deep you're sure he must be brushing your cervix each time.  
Eventually it starts to feel more fitting and you buck into him, hard. He lets out a breath in surprise.  
"Please. Harder." Scott grins down at you.  
"Please what?" For a second you draw a blank. Then you remember what you've been calling him all night.  
"Please, Daddy."  
"Good girl." He grabs your thighs and pushes them back against you for a better angle. The pace he swaps to is brutal and fast, nails digging into your skin. Every time he thrusts down you have to hold back a yelp. Scott leans in till your forehead is touching his. "Can I kiss you?" You don't understand why he feels the need to ask. Instead of responding you close the space between your lips and wrap your arms around his neck. His thrusts slow slightly and his grip on your thighs loosens. You can feel his arms starting to finally give out, he's practically laying on top of you, elbows just barely holding his weight. His are lazy in comparison to earlier in the limo.  
You're getting close but Scott has slightly cut down on his pace. To be honest, he had been bending backwards to get you off since you walked out of the bar. You would gladly pick up his little bit of slack to pay him back for all of this. So you grab his shoulders and flip him over before he can react.  
In the process you had separated yourself from him, now straddling his hips and sitting up. Your hands move from his tense shoulders down to his chest. When you do Scott lets out a long sigh, trying to relax.  
"Are you okay?" He nods weakly.  
"Yes, thank you, love." His hands go to rest on your waist, rubbing his thumbs in circles. "I'm so sorry about this, it's been awhile."  
"Since what?"  
"Since I've been with someone younger with a hell of a lot more energy than me. I mean, if I was more sober I'm sure I'd be able to go for hours but-" You cut him off.  
"Its alright. Really. You've done enough, the least I can do is return the favor. Just sit back and let me do the rest." Again, before he gets to respond you lift yourself up over his cock, one hand coming down to line him up properly before sinking all the way down. He hisses through his teeth.  
"Honey wait, I-" You start riding him at the same rate he was fucking you at a moment ago, deep and unforgiving.  
"What's that?" The older man under you just moans and shakes his head dismissively, grip on your waist tightening considerably.  
Eventually your high returns, stronger, your hands are slipping up his chest and he's having a hard time being quiet. You haven't slipped all the way down on his hard on just yet, still having to keep yourself suspended. Obedient to your request Scott hasn't tried to buck up into you yet, still laying on his back leisurely. His eyes are half lidded, keeping loving eye contact with you.  
You're close, tightening around him. He feels it too.  
"Please just-" You stop holding yourself up all together, sinking down until you can feel his pubic bone rubbing up against your clit. He lets out a gasp, and you can guess what he's getting worked up about. The base of his cock is considerably bigger than the rest stretching you till it hurts. It slips all the way in, tapering off so the stretch isn't quite as intense.  
Right.  
Werewolves had knots, that's what he was trying to tell you to be careful about. You pull back up until it pops out and then lower yourself back down, all the way. You move your hands to get better leverage and get a little closer to read him. When your hands slide from his clavicle up to his neck his breath hitches noticeably, letting out a desperate breath when they instead go to rest on either side of his head.  
"What's wrong?" Scott doesn't respond again, just whimpers and lifts his chin up to bare his neck. You get the message and move one hand to his throat, not applying pressure, just in case. "What? Do you want me to choke you?" He nods eagerly. You wrap both hands around his throat, careful not to put too much of your weight on his voice box.  
His eyes flutter shut and his head rolls back. You squeeze harder, he thrusts up sloppily to meet your pace.  
It doesn't take long to reach your climax, slamming down on his knot mercilessly over and over. This time you can't pull it out. It swells much more than you could have anticipated, keeping you locked in place. Your grip on his neck tightens until he's not getting any air whatsoever, a bruise was sure to be there tomorrow morning. Then he comes. Hard. You can feel the already intense pressure increase tenfold. Even with his knot filling you up you can faintly perceive the feeling of his seed leaking down your thigh. It might just be sweat. You think he's finished but he keeps coming in hot spurts that eventually taper off.  
You're worn out and so are your hands, so you let go to collapse on his chest. Surprisingly he doesn't gasp from the sudden airflow and instead sighs happily. Scott rolls you both over to lay on your side, wrapping his arms around you. You try to pull him out but it's almost uncomfortable, and from the way he hisses it's not any better for him. "I'm so sorry, we're going to be stuck like this for awhile."  
"What would happen if I tried to pull away?" He looks at you like you're nuts.  
"I mean… I don't think it would seriously injure me, it's just very overwhelming, but please wait at least a few minutes before you try, okay?" You just hum. He pats your back. "We should probably take a shower…" You groan.  
"This is so relaxing though, I've been on the road for 2 days, I just wanna have a good nap first."  
"I agree, I'd much rather lay here with you and pass out, but I knotted you so…"  
"So what?"  
"So when I pull out theres going to be a huge mess. I know there's absolutely nothing right now but I came quite a bit and I don't think you want to sleep in that." You sigh. That's right, he did come a LOT.  
"Fine." Scott presses a kiss to your forehead.  
"I'll take care of everything. I'll even carry you to the bathroom if you want." You relax and curl up against his chest.  
"I'd like that." One of his hands goes to your head to pet your hair gently.  
After 20 minutes you push his arms away and he lets you. You start pulling away and he puts a hand on your hip to guide you. The knot strains but eventually pops out and Scott pulls away to give you space. Once his cock is all the way out the flood breaks and before you know it your thighs are covered in a coat of white. "Jesus you weren't kidding." You look up and his face is flushed red.  
"God, I'm sorry, I really should have said something before, I c-" You place a finger over his lips to cut him off.  
"Shush. Let's take a shower."

**Author's Note:**

> \--I have a lotta OCs and not a lot of writing experience but I wanted to try something different. I've written exclusively reader inserts though, I was also thinking of writing about my other OCs and making more reader inserts so if you guys would like to see more, tell me! Any and all feedback is highly appreciated, so please leave a comment!--
> 
> \--Also, side note, I dont have a beta so forgive me if there's a few mistakes.--


End file.
